Heaven Maybe

One day recently, I arrived at daycare to pick up Claire only to find her room empty. I heard some squealing on the other side of the building. I joined the irregular stream of parents wandering toward the noise with heads cocked. We found all of the children in one of the larger rooms, dancing and singing along with Babaloo.

I scanned the crowd looking for Claire. After an embarrassingly long time, I saw her. She surprised me by not only being among the big kids, but by actually being one of the big kids. Claire is sneaky like that. She grows up behind my back. She was waving so fast that her hand was a blur. Her entire face was a smile - her eyes were squinted into crescents, pushed out of the way by her cheeks which had in turn been displaced by her grin. I smiled and waved at her. I was overcome.

There are these moments in love, especially in parenting, that defy explanation. They are gifts from God, I think. I can throw words at the moment in a vain attempt to describe it - love, bursting, light, beauty. I wonder if this is how God sees us all the time? Maybe these glimpses are God's way of showing us the wonder and glory of His Creation. I hope so. I can't imagine anything more beautiful than one day being able to see everything with that clarity of light.